Photobomb Blond
by SomethingSimsy
Summary: Recently out-of-the-closet Arthur visits Brighton in hopes of taking some shots with his camera, but instead, one very bubbly American photombombs them instead! Will he ever get any peace on the beach or is he doomed to be dragged to the arcade forever - or is this American after something more? – USUK UKUS Human AU Fluff One-Shot


**This idea has been in my head for a while! It was just a matter of getting it on the page (well, screen – whatever). Here you go! **

**Disclaimer:**** I do not own the characters presented in this fanfiction or Hetalia**

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><p><strong>Photobomb Blond<strong>

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><p>It was a warm day that Arthur Kirkland took a tour around Brighton, a lovely seaside city in the south of his home country, England. He had been there multiple times before, that much was true, but now that he was… more open about his sexuality… he started to see everything in a different light.<p>

The way the golden sun danced across the billowing flags strung up from random beachside buildings, the colours of the rainbow reflecting in Arthur's clear emerald eyes – it was enough to make the grouch smile, and that was saying something. Nothing could get to Arthur in that moment, and he grinned, his bushy eyebrows relaxing as he pulled out the camera strapped around his sunburnt neck to snap a shot of the beautiful beach.

_Snap!_

He winced a bit at the blinding shine of the light glaring off of the camera edge, but he smiled nonetheless; shading the camera screen with his hand, he peered at the shot he captured.

It was a normal beach scene; children playing in the water, parents laughing with them as they held their hands and played all the fun game happy families played together. There was a whole spectrum of beach towels covering the pebbly shores, and the sky was a magnificent blue.

Sort of like the pair of beaming eyes staring back in Arthur's camera.

Arthur flinched a bit, blinking back at his camera to find himself staring into a man's eyes, a young man's eyes, which were slightly wide behind the frames of his glasses. His soft pink lips were parted slightly, as if in sudden shock, to reveal a glimmer of pearly white teeth. _Fake, obviously_, Arthur internally scoffed, but he couldn't keep himself from looking.

The man had tanned golden skin with equally golden hair, someone you might typically expect to be from the sunny Californian beaches, not ones in Brighton, but he was parading around the beach in his little blue trunks as if he didn't belong anywhere else, and maybe he didn't, Arthur considered.

A single thought came to Arthur's mind, and in an instant he was already scoffing and kicking himself internally; _Don't think that Arthur, you absolute creep! _

But it was too late, and the dangerous thought was in his head again.

_Maybe he's gay…?_

_Maybe… _Arthur gulped. _Maybe he…_

Arthur sighed at his own schoolgirl antics.

_Christ, Arthur_, the man thought as he rubbed the lens of his camera on his shirt front. _You come to Brighton and automatically assume the first man you see is gay. Don't be so moronic, Arthur. Now, just go and enjoy the beach like you were supposed to!_

Arthur nods to assure himself of his plans and he fleetingly snaps another shot with his now clean camera, blinking as he looked down to the screen again.

And this time he gasped in shock.

"Hey!"

Arthur looked up, and then down at the camera screen again. The beach was still there with the rocks and the families and the sea, but the man? Well…

"Hey, I saw you taking pictures of me!" a happy voice laughed, and Arthur left his temperature rise as his impressive eyebrows lowered. "Do I _really _look _that _good?"

"That's not _quite _the case," Arthur spat. Down on the screen of his camera was the beach, but that wasn't exactly the focus of the picture he had unexpectedly taken at all. In fact, the beach was barely visible – slap bang, front and centre on the photo was this man, this young man, late teens, early twenties, gleaming blue eyes and a perfectly chiselled chest. Arthur shook his head and forced his eyes to look away from the camera, away from those _muscles _and at the stranger's face. "I was _trying _to take a photo of the beach, if you kindly wouldn't mind…"

The man blinked, but he grinned again, with slightly less vigour this time for some reason. "Oh, well, sorry about that Artie–!"

"_How do you know my name?_" Arthur almost shouted as he looked up at the man – the slighter taller man with a strangely charming American accent – _damn! _– shock obvious in his voice, and his face. "Who are–?"

The man started laughing, and Arthur felt his face turn red – and he knew it wasn't from his growing sunburn. "W-what's so funny?"

"Haha!" the American man laughed, and he smiled at Arthur with his soft lips again – Arthur couldn't decide whether it was sweet or condescending. That was something he would never get to finish considering because soon the American was pointing a finger firmly at Arthur's chest, and Arthur looked down. The finger flicked up.

Arthur's mouth was positively agape, and he was positively _fuming. _Had this stranger _really _just flicked him in the face? They had barely known each other for more than a minute! "_Hey!_" Arthur shouted, his face burning, and the American looked down at him, tears in his eyes from the amount he was laughing at Arthur. He took off his glasses and wiped the tears away. Arthur, however, had other ideas. "Just _when _do you plan on stop making a mockery of me and just _when _do you plan on telling me how you know my–?"

"Your nametag, dude!" the tanned man shouted with a loud bark of a laugh, and Arthur looked down in shock, noticing for some reason he still had his nametag from work pinned firmly into his shirt. Well, that would teach him not to work clothes out again.

Arthur could barely squeak out a weak "O-oh," but the barking laughter the other man was practically shouting at him was enough to make him smile just a bit, a quick quirk of his lips. This man wasn't intimidating like a bulldog – he was more like a sweet little puppy, a little too excitable and yappy, but a dumb puppy nonetheless. Arthur found himself liking that about the man, and a light blush dusted his cheeks – this one he _could _blame on the sun. "W-well, I would still rather you stopped laughing at me."

"Oh, right," the man said as he settled, a light smile on his lips now. "Hey, well, I know you're Artie, but you don't know I'm Alfred F. Jones! Saviour of the universe, hero of the–!"

"Y-yes," Arthur muttered as he tried to hurry Alfred along – and that nickname was wearing on him quickly. "Please, though, just call me Arthur, and I'll call you Alfred."

Alfred nodded with little a change in expression, and Arthur didn't know whether to be worried or not. He quickly decided not as Alfred firmly grabbed him around the wrist and started dragging him off somewhere. "H-hey!" Arthur spluttered, but Alfred turned around to beam at him.

"Don't you wanna go to the arcade, Artie? It's everyone's favourite!"

Arthur was about to protest, but let Alfred have his fun. He barely knew the guy, and, to face the truth, Arthur needed some friends if he could get any suitable enough – and he figured, soon enough, Alfred would do just fine.

And maybe, if he was lucky, and the fairies were on his side, Alfred could be just a little more than that.

Somewhere, invisibly, the fairies giggled, and with a quick _pop_, Arthur's wish was granted.

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><p><strong>I might add to this, maybe not. Anyway, that's just a quick lil' thing I did! (Inspired from a pic I saw of a gay couple having a romantic dinner on the beach at Brighton… and an advert for the army strangely… I have no idea either!)<strong>


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